All the Way to Hell and Back
by siriusblackofgryffindor
Summary: She had a broken life. First the death of someone she held extremely dear, then the rumours, the taunts, the lies. What could she do to stop it all? M-rated, AU one shot, done for the Rubiks Cube Challenge on WCFC.


**A/N: This one's also for the Rubiks Cube Challenge. It's rated M just to be safe, but if you guys think the rating could be lowered, then please let me know.**

**Prompt: Mental Asylum!AU**

She took a long look at her teachers, gaping at them in disbelief.

"Musa," said the headmistress sternly but softly at the same time. "Roll up your sleeves. Now, young lady."

Still not taking her eyes off of Faragonda, Griselda and Ofelia, Musa brought her left hand up to the sleeve of her right arm. She slowly began folding up the blue fabric, revealing her wrist and forearm.

And then the tears fell silently.

For the young musician's arm was full of scars. Inflamed, red and angry scars. The scars went up her arm and disappeared into the rest of her jumper sleeve. Some of them were a couple of centimetres long, others were so much longer.

The room was full of gasps. Faragonda stepped forward towards the girl, to which she stepped back. As she wiped the tears, she rolled her sleeve back down. "Musa..." the headmistress trailed off, somewhat lost for words.

"OK, you've seen them now," Musa muttered. "You know why I'm always in long sleeves, why I never wear dresses, why I always keep my sleeves down in culinary class." The tears fell again.

She turned and opened the door. "And you are _not _going to do anything about it." Her voice was murderous. She ran, slamming the door behind her.

She ran all the way to her dorm room. She threw open the door, scanning the room. Her eyes fell on her bag sitting on her bed, and she managed a small smile. She ran up to the bed, and opened her bag. She set about stuffing everything she needed in the rucksack, unaware that there was another presence in the room.

"Musa? What are you doing?"

The voice started her. She looked up, alarmed. Tecna was propped up against her pillows on her bed, her knees up and her laptop resting against them. Musa completely blanked her pink haired friend out. She slung her bag on her shoulder as she wiped the stray tears again.

She walked up towards the en suite bathroom, which the girls both shared. But Tecna beat her to it. She blocked the door to the bathroom. "Musa?" she asked softly. Musa looked away. "Where are you going?"

Musa frowned. "Get lost, Tecna!" she ordered. She pushed the Technology Fairy aside and pushed the door open. She locked the door from the inside before Tecna could process her actions.

She went up to the cabinet and opened one of the doors. She reached up for her razor. The razor that gave her all those scars. She smiled, despite herself, eyeing the object delightfully. Sitting on the edge of the bath, she rolled up her left sleeve. Her left arm was also covered in red and milky white scars.

The razor was placed on the underside of her arm. She moved it downwards, relishing in the sting of... _pleasure _she felt after doing so. (Note the word '_pleasure_' not the word 'pain'.) She kept at it, breaking the skin on her arm. A dribble of blood cascaded down to her wrist. Again, the tears fell, not at the sight of the blood but at the thought of her teachers knowing what she was doing to herself.

She knew that they would try to get her help, even though she'd told them not to do anything about it. She knew her friends would be questioned, to be asked if they knew about any of this. They didn't know. They didn't know _anything_. And she planned to keep it that way. She couldn't afford for the Winx to fuss over her, to try to keep her from doing this. They knew that she had depression, but that was it. The self harm, she managed to keep to herself. And Riven. Riven knew. He promised not to tell anyone, even through he was reluctant about it. So who was it that told the teachers?

All the way though her poignant thoughts, she moved the razor blades across her arm. Blood poured out of her fresh wounds as she repeated the process again and again: put razor on skin, cut skin until bleeding, move blades to different place on arm. Her friends would say it was a sick way to go about things, but she thought differently.

Suddenly, a call from the other side of the door stopped her in action. "Musa? Open up, sweetie." _Flora_. Her stomach flipped. _No. Not now._

She reluctantly tucked the razor into the inside pocket of her bag, sighing, the numbing sensation in her arm certainly not helping her movements. If she was to be honest, the only time she regretted her actions was when they limited her movements. She wiped off the blood from her arm with the toilet paper and flushed it down the toilet. She zipped up her bag again and held onto the handle at the top. Very slowly, she slid back the lock, and opened the door a crack.

All five of the other girls were standing on the other side. She stepped back, opening the door fully. Anger consumed her, and she found herself wondering _why everyone cared so much_. She walked out of the bathroom, pushing past Stella and Layla with her free arm. She walked out of the dorm room. They called after her, trying to catch up, but she started running.

She knew where she was going. She just didn't want anyone to see her get there. Her mother's grave. It was the only place to find the only woman she was truly loved by before death took the older woman in its arms. Even though it was three years ago, the memories still haunted her, and cutting was the only way she knew how to get rid of the pain. Oh, and starvation. She couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten a meal without throwing it up so she'd given up on food altogether. Food made her sick.

After the death, she was isolated for a year. She never left her room, she never went to lessons, she never talked to anyone. Not anyone at all.

Musa ran out of Alfea, dodging and pushing past the other students. She ignored the glares and mutters sent her way as others did their best to avoid her. Once she was safely outside, she muttered a spell: a spell that would take her _exactly _where she wanted to go. "Transportus gravus!" And then she disappeared.

She found herself at the foot of her mother's grave. She set her bag down, and knelt. "Mum," she whispered. "I'm almost there. I'll be with you soon. I miss you so much, but I promise you'll see me again. Just wait a bit longer."

She made it seem that it was her mother that wanted to see _her _and not the other way round. She took out a flower from her bag, which she'd put there the night before. The rose was a vibrant crimson; it reminded her of all the blood she'd shed. She placed it by the faded gravestone.

Tears glazed her eyes, and she tried her best to keep them inside, but they spilled over all the same. She missed her mother so, so much and she wanted to see her again. She wanted to see her smile, hear her laugh, have fun with her. She couldn't help but feel it was _her _fault that she would never have the experience of asking her mother's advice anymore.

Musa knew she couldn't stay any longer (someone might find her here) so she gripped the top handle on her bag and stood up.

She turned, ready to leave, and then she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Riven had his arms crossed as he stood in front of her, just a few metres away. His face was filled with concern; he failed to keep a straight face.

Musa knew she was in trouble. Had he heard what she said? About going to see her mother? She hoped not. She didn't need someone else trying to get her into a mental asylum. She had no doubt that that was what her friends and teachers and were going to try to do. She couldn't stand the idea of therapy and talking about her problems.

Because apart from the issues with her mother, she had a whole bunch of other reasons for her depression and self harm. There were a lot of rumours about hers and Riven's relationship that took their toll on her. Some people claimed to see him with other girls, even though he'd claimed to be devoted to her. She knew it was stupid of her to worry, but every day that went by without a call or text from Riven, the worry grew bigger. One time, Riven hadn't called or texted for a week and a half, and she found herself wondering if the rumours were true. Turned out he was busy with exam preparation.

When she'd first gone into depression, the students of Alfea and Red Fountain clocked the situation. Every time she went past, they taunted her and mocked her. They never let her have her peace. It was so difficult hearing all the 'If she feels bad for living in this world then maybe she shouldn't live at all.' type taunts every time she saw someone.

And, if she went into a mental asylum, then she would be forced to eat. She wouldn't have the opportunity to throw anything up, so she'd feel terrible. They'd go through her bags and take away any sharp objects she brought with her. It was really not fair.

Riven walked closer, and stopped a few feet before her. "How long have you been here, Riven?" she asked through gritted teeth.

He smiled wanly at her. "Long enough to hear your conversation," he whispered softly. His smile disappeared. "Musa, promise me you'll hear me out when I speak." Musa hesitated, knowing what was coming. "Please, Musa. Promise you won't try to interrupt me."

Musa sucked in a breath. "Fine. Talk, Riven." Riven held her waist, pulling her close.

"Let me be forward. You need help-"

"Oh, Riven!" Musa rolled her eyes.

"Hey. You promised. Remember?" Riven warned, rather softly.

"Whatever." Musa sounded irritated. But she quietened down all the same.

"You need to stop all this self harm. I get that you're depressed, and I'm not exactly helping the situation. But self harm is never the way to go about it. You could have counselling and-"

Musa didn't hear the rest of Riven's lecture. She closed off her ears, thinking about something entirely different. As he finished off with, "So come on, Muse," she shook herself out of her stupor.

"Where?" she asked, feeling a bit stupid.

"We're going to talk to Miss Faragonda, and get you a counsellor." He sounded firm.

"No, Riven. No one gets this, gets what I'm going through. I don't need help. I'll be fine."

Musa stepped away from Riven. "Please, Musa. Please. You don't understand how this is affecting me too. Seeing you like this is so hard on me. Do this for me. Please," Riven pleaded.

Musa held her breath, pondering. Riven sounded so sincere, so genuine. It made her wonder if she had one less thing to worry about. She wished it were true. But she wouldn't admit she needed help. Ever. But Riven... Maybe he was right. Maybe she _should_ do this for his sake.

But would it pay off?

Quickly making a decision, she stepped forward, holding Riven's shoulders. She kissed him, feeling him stiffen under her grip. Finally, after having recovered from the initial shock, Riven responded to the kiss. His arms moved to Musa's waist, pulling her closer. He smiled against her lips, and the kiss deepened. They parted eventually, both of them grinning madly from ear to ear.

"OK, Riven. Let's go to Miss Faragonda." She paused, and then added, "But only because you asked me to. I'm only doing this for you."

Riven raised an eyebrow, but he was smiling nonetheless. "Whatever you say, Muse."

Musa hugged him again. "I love you, Riven," she whispered.

Riven smiled, hugging her back. "The feeling's mutual, love," he told her gently. "Now let's go."

However, despite her current happiness, there was the familiar nervous butterfly feeling in the pit of her stomach. The feeling that hurt her so. Something was going to go wrong.

xxx

Nine months. It had been nine months since she had been admitted into this hell hole.

Musa hated it. She hated not having an escape when things got rough. Her counsellor, Ella, had given her other methods of escapism to try. There was reading books, listening to music, playing games, talking to people to distract herself, but nothing was working. She needed her razor; she couldn't live without it.

She had had it taken away, when she arrived nine months ago. They told her that if she was to get better, she should have no access no self harming tools. But she had other methods.

She ate very little, always taking tiny portions, or leaving a great deal if she was given a plate of food. Her weight was monitored, she was given food and drink regularly, and for a while, all her devices were taken away, while she got herself sorted.

The friends she'd made in the asylum didn't mind. They didn't mind about her self harm scars. They didn't mind that she had depression. They were all in the same boat.

One of her new friends, Agnes, had pretty much the same mind set as her. They stayed together pretty much all the time; they even had the same diagnosis.

Agnes was the one who gave her the idea to use her keys. Keys were sharp, and gave a piercing sting when in contact with skin. Musa was reluctant at first; she didn't want her house keys, the only keys she'd brought with her, to be confiscated. Agnes reassured her, and gave her a pair of old bicycle lock keys to use.

Musa thanked her, and their bond grew stronger.

They were in their assigned room: Musa, Agnes and their third room mate, Melysa, minding their own business.

Melysa had panic disorder, or anxiety, and she hadn't gone as far as self harm. Ella, Nyssa and Danielle (Musa, Agnes and Melysa's counsellors, respectively) thought that Melysa would be able to help Musa and Agnes steer themselves away from self harm. But to no avail. Melysa still got along with them well enough, though.

"Alright," Melysa said. She stood in front of Musa, frowning as she crossed her arms.

Musa sat on her bed, a key in her hand. She ran it across her wrist, over and over again. Her jumper sleeve was rolled up to her elbow, showing the numerous amounts of angry scars. "What's up?" Melysa asked her. She cast It was full of short scratches. Melysa breathed out mentally. It meant the girl hadn't gone too deep in her cutting.

Musa looked up, the key stopping mid stroke. She shook her head. "C'mon, Muse," Melysa prompted. She sat next to her friend. "You've known me for nine months. You'd think you could trust me by now." Melysa's arm snaked itself around Musa's shoulders.

Musa sighed. "I know I can trust you, Lys," she breathed out. She ran a hand through her midnight blue hair. "But I'm not sure if I can trust someone else though." Melysa felt Musa shake.

"Muse," another voice said softly. "Tell us, sweetie. We can help you." Agnes joined them, and sat on Musa's other side.

"Riven," Musa whispered. She shook her head.

"Riven, as in your boyfriend?" Agnes asked with a raised eyebrow.

"_Ex_ boyfriend," Musa corrected quickly.

Somehow it was all both other girls needed. "Oh, Musa," Agnes said as she hugged the broken girl. Musa's tears had begun falling.

"I'm sorry, hon," Melysa whispered.

"What happened?" the two girls asked at the same time.

"I guess the rumours that triggered my depression weren't rumours after all," she sighed, wiping her tears.

"Agnes Howard, Musa Turner and Melysa Cuthbert to Therapy Rooms 2, 5 and 9 for One to One Verbal Therapy, please," the speaker fitted into their room blared out. Even after nine whole months, their counsellors still felt the need to remind them of which rooms they needed to go to.

Musa groaned. "I... I better get going," she muttered, quickly standing up.

"Musa?" Melysa called quietly as the dark haired girl started walking to the door.

Musa turned back around, waiting expectantly. "Yes?"

"You know you can tell us anything, right?" she quizzed.

"I know, Lys. I know," Musa sighed. "I'll tell you after this stupid therapy we have to get to."

Melysa mouthed, 'OK' and gave her a thumbs up. Agnes stood up and pulled the other brunette up with her.

Musa didn't wait for Melysa and Agnes. She walked out of the door, finding her way to her therapy room.

Agnes and Melysa looked at each other, morbid expressions on their faces. They shrugged their shoulders, planning to follow the other girl in her footsteps.

xxx

She opened the door of Therapy Room 5, dreading the next forty five minutes. She knew Ella would try to get her talking - it was what happened twice a week for the past nine months.

"Hello, Musa. How are you feeling today?" Ella asked her, smiling excessively.

Musa groaned internally. She was _not _in the mood for Ella's cheerfulness today. Not at all.

But she knew she had to be truthful. She knew she had to tell the slightly older woman what was going on in her head. She could into terrible trouble if she lied. She knew of the fact.

"I'm... not too good today, Ella," she sighed. She sat herself at the table, opposite her overly cheery counsellor.

"Oh, what happened, honey?" Ella asked, the smile instantly disappearing from her face.

Musa sighed again, running a hand through her long tresses. "Remember the rumours that helped my depression surface?"

Ella nodded. "The ones about your boyfriend? Riven?" she confirmed.

"Yeah. Them," Musa replied. "Turns out they're not really rumours."

"They're not? What happened?" Ella asked.

"One of my friends from boarding school, Layla, saw him with another girl about a month after I left to come here." Tears threatened to fall, but Musa blinked them away furiously, the memories making her frown hard, alighting a fresh anger within her.

"And you're more inclined to believe your friends, if it's not rude for me to ask?" Ella asked.

"Yeah. My friends have stuck with me through pretty much everything. Riven and I... I think we've had more downs than ups." Musa finished her sentence while digging around in her pocket. "And I have proof," she added.

Musa looked down at her phone screen, swiping and clicking buttons. She sighed when she finished. She hung her head and closed her eyes as she showed Ella a photo.

Ella took the phone, squinting to see the photo properly. She was convinced she was seeing things. The photo was of Riven - there was absolutely no mistaking the spiky, magenta hair - and a girl. A girl with brown blonde hair. They were both lip locked.

"Are you sure this is genuine?" Ella asked, looking up.

Musa nodded, taking the phone from the older woman. She closed off the photo, and put the device in her pocket. "My friends won't lie to me," was her reply.

"It could have been technologically modified?" Ella persisted.

Musa frowned, Ella's statement reminding her of Tecna. Tecna was her room mate; she wouldn't do this to her. Would she?

_No. Tecna was my best friend. She still is. She wouldn't do this to me. She wouldn't dream of it._

"No, Ella. This is real. This is authentic, genuine. And I don't know what to do." Musa's last sentence came out as a restricted sob.

Ella watched as Musa groaned and banged her head against the table. She pushed her chair back hurriedly and walked around the table. She heard Musa's choked cries when she put her hand on the younger girl's shoulder. After several minutes, Musa lifted her head up, her tears still falling freely. Ella outstretched her arms and Musa stood up to hug her. Ella wrapped her arms around Musa's shoulders.

Musa let go of herself, and the tears tripled in frequency. "Why did I ever believe him? Why didn't I believe the rest of Alfea? Why would he do this to me?" she cried. It eventually came to the point where Musa's sentences were incoherent, due to her sobs taking over.

"Shh, sweetie. Everything is going to be fine," Ella said. She pushed Musa back gently, holding her shoulders. "Why not talk to him? Ask him what his reasoning behind his actions is. See the story from his point of view?"

Musa pondered her counsellor's words. Should she try talking to Riven about this? Would it be worth it?

"Maybe I should. Maybe there's a realistic explanation for this," Musa justified. She wiped her eyes with her thumb. "I'll do it with Lys and Nessa in a bit. After Group Therapy."

"OK, sweetheart. Are you... sure you're going to be OK?" Ella's eyes flicked over Musa's arms. Musa gulped, guilty.

"I-I'll be fine."

"All right. See you on Thursday." Ella took a seat at her table.

"Bye, Ella." Musa walked out slowly and closed the door.

xxx

"So give me your phone."

Musa fished her phone out of her pocket. She handed it to Agnes, who took it and sat on the navy haired girl's bed beside her. "Here," she said.

Musa looked over Agnes' shoulder. She watched as Agnes filed through her contact list, finally reaching the letter 'R'. She came across Riven's name.

Agnes looked at Musa, asking for her permission and if she was ready. Musa looked over at Melysa, who was sitting on Agnes' other side. Melysa nodded, giving her the thumbs up. Musa breathed out, clenching her fists. She looked back at Agnes and nodded, saying, "Fine. But you can talk to him first."

"OK. Here we go." Agnes' finger hovered over the call button. She really wanted for this to help Musa. Musa put her hand on Agnes' shoulder, and mouthed 'just do it'. Then she squeezed her eyes tight, her hands falling to her lap.

Agnes clicked the button, putting it on the loudspeaker. "Hello? Musa?" Riven greeted. His voice sounded delighted, as if he was happy to hear from Musa again.

"No, sorry. My name is Agnes. I'm one of Musa's friends," Agnes explained.

"Oh," Riven said, noticeably disappointed. "Where's Musa?"

"She's... busy, sorry. Can I ask you a question?"

Musa looked away, shamefaced.

"Uh, sure?" Riven was surprised.

"I'm not sure if I should ask this, but... how... how do you feel about Musa?" Agnes held her breath.

"Oh, uh... I... I don't know... Why?"

From the corner of her eye, Agnes saw Musa reach in her pocket. She pulled out a key. In an instant, Melysa was up and over to her. Agnes nudged up so that Melysa could sit beside her. Melysa put her hand over the key. She shook her head.

"We've heard... things... about your and her relationship... that made me think... do you _really _love her?" answered Agnes.

There was a terribly long pause. Musa shook Melysa's hand off her own, rolled her sleeve up, and ran the key downwards. It made a horrible scratching noise, and Melysa reeled back in horror. Then all of her old scars were in the process of being opened. Her suspicions were valid. She was angry and hurt all rolled into one.

And finally, Riven spoke. "Well... Is-is Musa there?"

Musa looked up as blood started spilling out of her wounds. She shook her head. She wanted to know the truth. Riven wouldn't be honest if he knew she were listening. "No, she's... with her counsellor."

"Oh, OK. Good. Because... if... if I'm honest, I don't. I don't love her. And if I'm really honest... I... I never have."

And then Musa snapped completely. She stood up and threw her bloodied key to the floor. She rolled her sleeve down. She hissed, "Riven, I hate you!" and walked out of the room.

Agnes and Melysa looked at each other and raised an eyebrow. Melysa was up and out of the door to look for her.

"Why lie to her, Riven? Why lead her on?" Agnes asked.

"Because... I just didn't like her. She seemed so happy... and I didn't want to hurt her," Riven whispered. He'd clocked that Musa was there before.

"So basically, you decided to _pretend_ to love her and care, when all she'd wanted was love and care - _real_, genuine love and care - and then hurt her like you've done by telling her it was fake. And what's worse, you went out with other girls behind her back!" Agnes' voice rose steadily.

"I know, I know. But-"

"No buts, Riven! Just... no!" Agnes yelled, standing up. "You were unfair as hell! You don't realize that the rumours about you two were the things that admitted her into this hell hole! She hates it here, she won't listen to anything that her counsellor tells her, she wouldn't even be here if it weren't for YOU!"

"OK, OK, calm down. You've made your point. And besides, it was her mother's death which did it as well, you know!" Riven protested.

"But it was the rumours that she talked about the most, see?"

"Whatever, dude. I'm out." With that, he hung off the phone.

"GOOD RIDDANCE! Musa doesn't deserve disgusting shitbags like you!"Agnes yelled. She was about to throw the phone, but she remembered it wasn't hers.

She sank onto Musa's bed, clutching it tight. She was so angry with Riven. How dare he hurt her best friend?! He was such a player!

xxx

Musa was shaking. She couldn't believe that she had been played. It was so hard. She loved Riven. It was terrible hearing the feelings weren't reciprocated.

"Musa! Wait up!" It was Melysa.

Musa skidded to a halt. Melysa walked up to her. She stopped behind Musa. "Hey," she whispered. Musa turned around stiffly. "Shall we walk?"

Musa nodded. As they walked, Musa noticed that their wing of the mental asylum (aka the hospital) was nowhere near as full as it had been for the last couple of months. Sure a few people were walking round, but they were either staff or people she didn't know.

"You know, I bet you're not the only one he's played," Melysa said suddenly. "I bet there's hundreds of lovely, innocent girls that he's hurt like he's hurt you."

"I know. But... it doesn't help," Musa muttered.

Melysa sighed sympathetically, putting her hand on Musa's shoulder. "I know it doesn't. But you don't need him, girl. You don't need him at all."

"I guess. But- hey!" she exclaimed, realizing something.

"What?" Melysa quizzed.

"He just wanted me in this place so he was free to go out with whoever. He made it seem like he liked me so I agreed with him and left. Then he would have been 'allowed' to take out whoever he wanted," Musa explained, ounces of realization setting in.

"Hey, you're right! Wait till Agnes hears about this!" Melysa replied.

And then, as if on cue, Agnes came bounding up to them, her brown wavy tresses bouncing on her back. Musa smiled sadly at her as they walked, asking, "What did he say?"

Agnes raised an eyebrow. "You sure you want to do this now? It can wait. Or not get mentioned at all?"

This elicited a chuckle from Musa. "No, I don't want to do this now. Or ever, to be honest, but I need to. So. What did he say?" she explained.

Agnes sucked in a breath. "Well. He... he said he just didn't like you and... he didn't want to upset you?" She waited nervously for Musa's reaction. And when it came, it was just as she expected.

"So he decided to _play _me?!" Musa asked incredulously, angry at the same time. "He doesn't like me so he decides to lead me on?!"

"It's what he said." Agnes shrugged lightly.

I _hate_ him!" Musa cried.

"We know you do, Muse. We know," Melysa said. "And we hate him too."

"So do your friends back at Alfea," Agnes cut in.

"How... you talked to them?" Musa inquired.

Agnes grinned. "Yup. Seems like they wanted to see how you were doing. And they said that the guys from the brother boarding school-"

"The _specialists _from _Red Fountain_," Musa cut in.

"Whatever," Agnes waved off. "They said that the Specialists were really angry with him and they were planning to take him out of the squad for their trip."

"Oh. You went through the rest of my contact list, didn't you?" Musa asked with a playful jab, realizing something.

"I might have done," Agnes said slyly. "They wanted to speak to you too but I said it would be best to call you back later. You aren't really feeling that good, are you?"

Musa shook her head. And then she asked a question that shocked them all.

"Was I destined to be broken like this so many times?"

Agnes and Melysa's jaws dropped open. Were they hearing things?

Musa watched them with a concerned look on her face. Had she said something that she shouldn't have?

"What?" she quizzed nervously.

"Musa, _please _don't say things like that. Ever," Melysa whispered, her voice trembling slightly.

Musa raised an eyebrow. "What?" she asked. "It's a valid statement!"

"Your life will change for the better _some _day," Agnes argued.

Musa held her arms out, saying, "I hope so," and both girls fell in to a hug with her.

"Never say anything like that again. Or the consequences won't be good," Agnes declared.

Melysa nodded. "Right, Nessa."

They stayed in that position for quite some time. Musa, despite the current events and her state of mind, felt truly thankful for her two new friends. She started to believe what Agnes said. If her friends stayed with her, then everything would be just fine.

**A/N: Jeez, this was my longest one-shot to date, with just over 5000 words. Hope you guys like it. Again, if you feel like the rating can be lowered, ****let me know, please! **

**Also, I have a poll on my profile to do with writing styles; please check it out. ****I would love to know what you think!**


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